The Beginning of Always
by Mezclau
Summary: He's her everything, her one and done, her always. She's his surprise, his everything, his always. Set about two years after the fourth season, six years into their partnership. Rick's proposal.
1. Chapter 1

Rick watched her through the partition that divided the precinct. She sighed and glanced at her father's watch after flipping the last page of the document over, evidently begrudging the twenty minutes left until 6:00, the twenty minutes left until she could pack up.

He knew she packed up at 6:01 on every caseless day—knew why, knew that people trying to get one up on their boss or their company or their coworkers had always irritated her; that those were the cases that bugged her most.

He also knew that once finished packing up she would stand up, run her strong hands through her shining brown hair, tangle her fingers through till the end—oh, that hair. Rick loved her hair.

But he loved her more.

So he also knew that she would then turn and shrug into her jacket, pick up her bag in her left hand while pushing the desk chair in with her right. She'd lean over and straighten her pens, and stride across the precinct to the elevator, calling goodbyes to Ryan and Esposito as she did. She'd get to the elevator at 6:04, arrive at the bottom floor by 6:06, and appear at her car by 6:10 at the latest.

Then she'd drive home, to their loft—No. Still his loft, technically. He had to stop himself all the time from doing that lately, knew it was a sign, knew he had to get on top of things. Which was what today was for. Because it—it just sounded so _good_.

Their loft. With their kitchen, where she'd make him eggs or he'd make her pancakes after the ever-sensational nights spent together in their bed. Then they'd shower in their shower, or better yet forego soap and water. He liked those days, the days no one was home to see them and she'd spend all day in a tank top and his smallest boxers, found from her rummaging in their closet. They'd order in Chinese or Italian, watch a movie on their couch, and then head in to their bed. He liked those nights especially…

But no, Rick. Stay focused Rick. This was important. Because tonight she wouldn't be getting to her car by 6:10 or the elevator by 6:04—it would be much later, if he had anything to say about it.

And he hoped he did. He hoped he still got to. Because if the last six years had taught him anything, it was that Kate Beckett could always surprise him.

She had done it originally—letting him follow her, letting him stay. Even more when she let him in. She surprised him with her mother's murder and her father's disease, with her own strength. He was always surprised by her beauty, but he supposed that shouldn't still be unexpected. She surprised him when she took out Dick Coonan in order to save another life—even more surprised that it was his. She surprised him when she was shot, and she surprised him when she forgot his words, even more when she remembered. She surprised him when she loved him back, she surprised him when she agreed to go on a date.

She surprised him every day when she connected with suspects, she surprised him with her compassion. She surprised him with her intelligence and her power and her everything. She surprised him when she did girl talk with his daughter, and especially when she wouldn't tell him every detail. She surprised him when she read lines with his mother, because it was a torture even he couldn't bear while smiling. She surprised him when she grinned. Kate Beckett surprised him when she giggled, surprised him when she laughed, surprised him when she cried and surprised him all the times in between.

But then again, she also surprised him when she left him after that fight, and when she pretended to forget his words in the cemetery for four months, and when she started to build her walls back up four months into their relationship.

And that kind of surprise wasn't good. It scared him. A lot.

So he was scared, he was so scared, he was more scared than he had been for anything ever before. Because before there had always been more—there had been a fallback, a plan B, a support system, a chance.

Now? There was nothing. If he…if he did, and she…and she said no, then there it would be. His entire life laid out on the line, and her words destroying it.

Alexis was at college, would go to grad school the year after next and get a high-powered job in the city that raised her. His mother had Jason, and her acting school, and would always be, well, his mother, but would really be okay. Ryan, Esposito, Lanie, Jenny, who had been his friends and family over the last six years? They'd be gone, all gone. His career? Gone. He couldn't stop the Nikki Heat series now, but would never be able to keep writing, knowing it was Kate's words and Kate's actions that were inspiring him but knowing he would never get to hear or see them again.

He certainly couldn't keep working at the precinct if she said no, wouldn't be able to, couldn't watch her break his heart and keep on running, find another man (a better man, the one she really deserved, a small voice in his head whispered) and be successful and happy and fine. So he would lose everyone, everything, and by the very nature of losing so much, would be lost himself.

It would break him. Destroy him, demolish him, take him for everything he had. So she couldn't say no.

And he was more scared than he had been for anything in his life that she would.

But he was still Rick, he was still Castle, he was still that nine-year-old on a sugar rush she began working with so many years ago. So he had hope; strong hope, resilient hope. But she had surprised him before. She could again.

So he waited, and watched as she finished up, watched as she began to organize her things and conclude her work on the computer. It was her routine.

He wondered if tomorrow it would be different.

(…)

Kate glanced down at her father's watch again and sat up in her desk chair, hyper-aware of every movement she made. Castle was here. He was watching her; he had been for the last fifteen minutes. She would've called it creepy a few years ago, the way Castle was always so focused on her. But now…well now he was Rick more than he was Castle, and sometimes she watched him just as intently as he watched her.

They had been…whatever for two years now, longer if you asked Lanie or Martha. She still didn't know what to call them, had no idea what they were.

A couple sounded like they were on a fifties-based TV show, but boyfriend and girlfriend made it sound like they were seventeen. 'In a relationship' was too official, and lovers was a term used to describe cheating spouses. He was just…hers. Her Castle, her Rick. And she supposed she was his as well, more than she had ever been anyone else's. He liked to remind her of that when she got the call for an early-morning body drop after a long night.

Though she didn't really need to describe it, somehow didn't feel the need for labels and titles and organization the way she always had.

Kate Beckett has always liked boxes, liked rules, liked procedures and protocols. It was how she dealt with life when she felt like she didn't know how to, how she had done everything since her nineteen-year-old self returned home from that dinner with her father. She categorized and organized and compartmentalized, and then she could think logically, could do what was right, could do what needed to be done. It was a foolproof system.

Except with Castle.

With Castle she was anything but logical and organized, with Castle her life was an ever-crazy ride filled with highest highs (when they were together, when she woke up in his arms, when he fell asleep with his head on her lap) and lowest lows (when they were apart, when her walls started to build back up, when they fought); with topsy-turvy turns around every corner and a fear—always, a fear, that one of them would break it, one of them would leave.

Her, probably.

Some case or some fight or something stupid would get to her and she'd put walls up, put boundaries up, because she knew she wasn't good enough for him, knew she didn't deserve him. And then he'd be gone, he'd leave, she'd make him. He would…well he would probably be able to find someone else. '_Don't be stupid, of course he would'_ said a voice toward the back of her head.

For some stupid reason Richard Castle was smitten with her, loved her, was in love with her. And for very many not-so-stupid reasons, she felt the exact same way about him.

Kate Beckett couldn't imagine her life without Rick Castle, but she knew it could never be the same. This was it for her, this was her always, her one-and-done, her everything, no matter how much she tried to deny it when the boys teased her after a few drinks at the Old Haunt. But that didn't mean she couldn't mess it up, couldn't make some stupid decision and ruin everything, push away the best man she had ever known, the best man to ever come into her life.

Beckett had messed a lot of things up just like that, messed a lot of things with people up just like that. And though she knew Castle would have a stronger reaction than any of the others, would continue trying for months and months and perhaps years and years to get her to allow him back, she'd probably say no. She probably wouldn't let him. It would be the hardest thing she would ever have to do, but she would do it if it meant he would be happy. If somehow, someday, she knew that he would be happier without her, she would have to do it. Because she loved him, more than she had ever loved anyone. More than she loved herself…

The slamming of Esposito's file cabinet drawer brought her back to the present, back to the precinct, out of the horror-filled world of imagining situations without Castle. Because she knew she would never let that happen, not now at least. In the present, she knew it would physically and emotionally kill her to let him go. She also knew that he would probably never let her.

(…)

A few moments after being brought out of her reverie, she remembered Castle's presence. She assumed it was some kind of elaborate scheme on his part, some kind of crazy antic-filled plan of his for the rest of the night.

A few years ago, the thought of any of the limitless possibilities extending from one of Castle's plans would have annoyed her to no end. But now? Now she just felt some strange mix of security and anticipation, of impatience with her work, which was a roadblock between her and the plans Rick had for the evening.

But…But why wasn't he coming in? He _had_ been acting strange lately, seemed slightly busier than usual and a little worried. The deal for the second Nikki Heat movie was coming to a close soon, she knew. Maybe it was that. Or maybe it was any of an endless expanse of other things, for Richard Castle had a constant list of plans, of ideas, of plans and proposals and possibilities.

She knew whatever it was wouldn't be bad, for they had promised each other to never conceal the bad or suspicious after that night so many months ago when she discovered the murder board. That night filled with fighting and screaming and crying and even more fighting.

So usually, she planned to pretend as if she was unaware of his scheming actions, to feign ignorance. She knew he would always tell her when the time was right, he told her everything. Though usually, she didn't even need to wait for him to tell her. Usually, she could read him like an open book. She knew Rick, knew how his brain worked, knew what he was thinking and knew which things stuck in his mind. Usually, she knew every detail of his plan as soon as he even started to hash out logistics.

Not this time though.

And he really had been acting weird lately, weirder than usual. He hadn't come by the precinct a few days in the last week or so, hadn't been as enthralled with their last case as he typically was and had seemed distracted whenever they discussed it. Whenever they discussed anything, actually, though he constantly reminded her how enchanted he was with her every movement, every word, every thought.

It wasn't that he seemed uninterested, or she suspected the presence of someone else—god no.

He more seemed…changed, seemed more captivated with her entire being than with her specific story or idea, seemed more interested in the plans of the big picture than the activities of the present. Unusual, for a man normally so filled with energy that he hated making plans even a week in advance—would rather just do whatever it was immediately. This time, it was different. Which intrigued her.

But it was Rick, and she trusted Rick. So before turning to look straight at him, forcing him to reveal his intentions, she decided to pack up her paperwork.

But he rounded the corner before she got the chance; seemingly deciding that now was the correct time to make his move, to set whatever crazy plan he had into action. 

* * *

><p><em>The actual proposal (and more!) to come, hopefully before tomorrow. Only my second fanfic, so any reviews or feedback would be enormously helpful and forever appreciated :) <em>


	2. Chapter 2

So here's chapter two, finally! I apologize a thousand times for the delay, I meant to finish much earlier.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> They definitely don't belong to me.

* * *

><p>Previously:<p>

…_But it was Rick, and she trusted Rick. So before turning to look straight at him, forcing him to reveal his intentions, she decided to pack up her paperwork. _

_However, he rounded the corner before she did; seemingly deciding that now was the correct time to make his move, to set whatever crazy plan he had into action. _

"Kate," Rick breathed, seemingly startled by her presence, though he had clearly been walking toward her desk with purpose. "I…hi."

Kate gave him a puzzled look. "Hi?"

Rick stammered, seemed unsure of himself. Castle was _never_ unsure of himself, she thought. _Never_. Scared, sure. A bit unsettled, yeah. But not unsure.  
>"I..um." He paused. "Uh."<p>

This was the one part he hadn't thought about, the one part he hadn't planned out. The rest he knew, the rest he had outlined or at least decided to wing, to let spontaneity rule. So he sputtered and hesitated and, he had to admit, bumbled a bit. But somehow he found a rhythm; he latched on to the very last wisps of a half-thought out plan drifting by.

(…)

Rick reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't…just don't hate me for this, okay? You…you can be annoyed, or…or whatever, but just…just don't hate me, okay? I- I can't…no."

Becket was confused to say the least. But as she gazed into the clear blue eyes of the man she had half-risen to greet, she realized there was no fathomable situation in which she could ever hate this man. She already loved him more than any other—that wouldn't change as long as she had a say in the matter. Even if it did, it would take months, years before Beckett's enchantment with the man in front of her could even diminish, much less evaporate entirely.

"No…of course not. Castle what...what are you doing?" He stepped slightly backwards, lowering himself downward.

"Rick!" she whispered. "What are you _doing_? We're in the middle of—" she glanced around. The precinct that had been so busy just a few minutes ago, the precinct that was constantly running at a breakneck pace, had essentially grinded to a halt. She could see Ryan and Espostio half-leaning, half-sitting on their desks to her right, and…was that Lanie leaning against Javi, up from the morgue? What?

"Kate," Rick called, taking her hand as he did.

She glanced back at him, planning to continue surveying the precinct for clues as to what the hell was going on. But something in his eyes, something in his face, something in his voice stopped her. She turned her head, held her gaze until something drew it downward.

He was down on one knee.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. This wasn't happening. Couldn't be happening. No, not yet, not- no, he wouldn't be ready, he couldn't be ready, he had always dismissed the prospect of a third marriage, right? It wouldn't happen, not like this, not now, not with her. She wasn't…no. He needed someone bigger, someone better, someone stronger, smarter, more beautiful, more extraordinary. He was crazy if he thought she was good enough.

It wasn't that she wasn't ready, she realized. Not that she had thought it all the way through before, or even considered it seriously. But now? This was it for her, this was absolutely it.

Kate had always run from the prospect of marriage, though she knew somewhere in the back of her mind that a white dress and a perfect guy and a kid or two lay in her future. But the few times it had been seriously brought up or even mentioned by previous boyfriends—Josh had talked about it, so had Sorenson, and Jon back in college—she had brushed it off or even ended the relationship. But now when she saw some future version of herself twirling around the kitchen, cooking dinner alongside her husband while the two laughed at their son or daughter's antics, well…the guy looked a whole lot like Rick.

She felt safe with Rick, and she loved him. He knew when to push and when to step back, when to help and when to let her alone, when to ask questions and when to keep silent. He knew things about her—things she had never told anyone, things she thought she never would. He even knew things she _hadn't_ told anyone, but that he figured out anyway—a side effect of knowing her as well as he did.

And…and she knew things about him, too, she realized. His faults, his insecurities. His fears, his regrets, his mistakes. His joys, his greatest accomplishments (they were different than one might think), his love for his daughter and his deepest desires.

Somehow, Richard Castle had worked his way into her life, and she had slid right into his. The place she pictured when she heard the word 'home' looked a whole lot more like his loft than any place she'd ever lived. 'Family', too, included him (of course), but also Martha and Alexis.

And she was scared. Yeah, she was scared as hell. But she knew him well enough to know that he was too. That Richard Castle feared he wasn't good enough for marriage, and would be alone and reeling forever. Scared that he would never get that happily ever after—that always.

They had discussed the matter, late one night in his bed. Both had been awakened by nightmares sparked by the traumatic case they had just closed. He had revealed the truths about his previous marriages, and let her see the parts of him that were still insecure about their failings, that still believed—would always believe—the divorces were his fault. And he admitted just how fearful he was about marrying again—in case they failed, in case they didn't work out. _But we'd be different_, a voice in the back of her head supplied. _We'd be better. _

"Kate…" he started. Oh great. He already sounded like an idiot. She was going to tease him to death after he finished. That-that is, if she was still around.

But he couldn't think about that now. Had to get going, had to start, before she had a chance to say anything. Because this couldn't be a conversation, couldn't be a compromised risk between the two of them. If he was going to do this for a woman like Kate Beckett, then he had to lay it all out on the line. He had to put everything he had up for grabs and hope she picked it up. Hope she didn't leave it lying there to be trampled.

So he began.

"Kate…I-I don't really know how to do this, you see," he admitted. "You'll have to forgive me for that. But here it goes."

"Do you remember how we met? Really met, I mean." She nodded, looked almost as if she was about to speak, but he cut her off.

"It was at the release party for _Storm Fall_, and I remember feeling so stale, so bored, so tired of that superficial life the _Storm_ novels had created for me. And then you walked in, to that crazy little bar on the East Side; all prepared to bring me back to the station, question me, and dump me back outside, your life never shaken in the process. But you were captivating, Kate, intriguing. My world had been filled with darkness, but here you were, positively iridescent." He blinked, swallowing. "Like you still are."

"So, as the nine-year-old you love to tell me I am, I weaseled my way in. I ended up pulling some of my tightest strings in a crazy freewheeling deal I was afraid would collapse at any second—still am, in fact. But I knew I had to see you again, Kate. I knew I had to at least try to make you a part of my life. Yeah, I said it was for the books, for the story. That was true, still is—no one could ever compete with the inspiration you provide for Nikki Heat. But it was about so much more than that, too. It…it was for you Kate. It was all for you."

She inhaled quickly as her face mirrored her thoughts in—hopefully—realizing the full extent of his love for her. Either way, it just reminded him of another thousand reasons he was so in love with the woman sitting above him. "So then we began, and I knew stale was a feeling I wouldn't get again for a long while."

Castle paused for a breath, and to clear his throat. He would've looked around, maybe gotten a read on how he was doing from Lanie or one of the boys, but she was, as always, far too magical to tear his eyes off of.

"Kate, there are no words for the impact you have made on my life, on my personality, on my outlook over the last six years. I could never truly describe it, and if I were smarter I wouldn't even attempt to. But as I am, of course, both a writer and a rebel, I'll have to again hope you'll forgive me, and hope my thoughts fill in where my words fall short."

He glanced down at their hands, rubbing the delicate space between her thumb and wrist, and then back up.

"After all, Kate, you always could read my mind better than anyone. But—that shouldn't be surprising anymore, because you know me better than anyone does, better than anyone ever has or ever will. You've of course taught me everything I could ever hope to know about being a detective." His eyes darted toward her mouth, and back up.

"Though, for their sake, I'll keep telling the boys they helped." A hint of amusment played on her already emotion-filled face, and he could feel the suggestion of a laugh travel through her body.

"But as everyone within a five-mile radius can tell, our partnership goes far beyond research or police work. Kate, you've taught me how to be fearless, how to love a woman more than I could've ever imagined. You've helped teach me some of my most important parenting lessons: how to be brave, how to let things fall where they may, how to let go. And most importantly, you've taught me how to make sense of songs." He paused, smiling.

After a moment, he resumed.

"With Alexis deciding her future up at Cornell, I've been thinking a lot about mine, too. And I don't know what I'll be doing in a year, Kate, much less five years, or ten, or twenty. But the one thing I'm absolutely sure of," He swallowed hard, trying his best to not get choked up. "is that no matter where I am, or what I'm doing, or how I'm doing it, I want to be doing it with you.

"I want to wake up with you in my arms on our bed in the Hamptons, and watch you as the sea breeze blowing in wakes you up. I want to twirl you around our loft, slow dancing at two in the afternoon—just because we can. I want to see you in the most beautiful white dress in the world, Kate, and I want to be the one waiting for you at the top of the aisle. I want to whisper in your ear how extraordinary you are as we're pronounced husband and wife."

"I want to kiss you silly, kiss you 'till I'm tingly all over and you stop to catch your breath, kiss you 'till my mother clears her throat in the audience, holding back some obscene comment, because you and I both know she'll have one. And Kate, I love that we both know that, I love that you know that. I love that you're mine, and I love that you're the most beautiful woman in the universe, and I love that you're smarter than I could ever hope to be. I love that you know my mother just as well as I do, and I love that my daughter looks up to you. I love that we have the same sarcastic comments about crazy suspects, and I love that you understand all of my references. Even more, I love that I get all of yours."

He breathed, feeling all his nerves begin to hit overdrive.

"Katherine I want to wake up next to you tomorrow, and the next day, and every day after that, forever and always. I want to wake up on one of those days and rest my hand on your pregnant stomach and I want to wake up not long after that and shift our baby back toward me, so you can get some more sleep. I want to raise the rest of my children with you. I want first days of school and first kisses and sweet sixteens and graduations, and I want weddings where we'll send off our babies to the rest of their lives. I want to dance with you at their weddings and beyond, at forty and sixty and eighty and one hundred. I want to spoil our grandchildren while you tell me to respect their parents' wishes."

"I want everything for you that you want for yourself Kate, and beyond that I want the things for you that you won't even let yourself desire. I want to live with you for the rest of my life, and I want to take you around the world. I want to kiss you in Rome and Paris and Egypt and Brazil, I want to be able to show the entire world that you're mine, that I've got the most beautiful wife in the world, the most perfect wife in the world, and everything in between. I want a million things for you and for us, Kate. I want there to be an 'us'. For always."

He took a deep breath, almost shaking with some crazy combination of anticipation and fear and love, so much love.

"So dear God help me if I'm wrong, help me if I've gone too far, but I love you Kate, I love you to the moon and back and beyond a thousand times over. I love you in every way possible and I'm more in love with you than I thought was possible. You're my light at the end of the tunnel, my shining star, my dear detective, my everything and my always. So now I ask you, Katherine Johanna Beckett, will you make me the happiest man in the universe? Will you let me be your one-and-done and your always?"

He paused, and the emotion in the room ran higher than he had ever known—but he paid no regard to his surroundings. His world was Kate, only Kate.

"And Katherine…will you marry me?"

And then she was nodding fervently, and the tears she had held back throughout his speech were pouring out, she was sobbing and laughing and everything in between, but it didn't matter. Because she was engaged, and she was going to marry Richard Castle. And then she toppled into his arms, and he held her tighter than ever before, whispering words upon words of love. And they were kissing, and it was better than ever before, and Kate Beckett thought that if she had to define happiness there would be no better description than this moment.

A loud cheer broke the two out of their reverie, seemingly remembering the world around them. Kate looked around, and saw the precinct exploding with joy. And the boys were whooping and catcalling, hugging while Lanie wiped away tears. And someone was popping a bottle of champagne, and glasses were passed to them through hoards of congratulations. Kate teared up again, smiling harder than ever.

Her family was happy. And she was too—finally, finally happy, happier than she could ever remember.

She had a feeling the sentiment wouldn't disappear for a long while. Maybe never. Maybe this whole thing—she rubbed the diamond ring on her finger—would leave her happy for always.

After all, absolutely nothing else could ever make her this happy again.

* * *

><p>So...i hope everyone liked it! I apologize for any parts that were too OOC.<br>Now I have a couple ideas that i could continue this story with, but I also kind of like leaving it here. If anyone has opinions/ideas, let me know what you think!

And on a side note, thanks to fuckinglovecastle and ginalways on tumblr for their graphics, which helped with inspiration:  
>-wedding<br>and  
>-3x01-a-deadly-affair<p> 


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